


The squash has a butt.

by theaeblackthorn



Category: Porn RPF, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Beards (Facial Hair), Dirty Jokes, Future Fic, Hook-Up, M/M, Sex, fun sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 17:13:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2740487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theaeblackthorn/pseuds/theaeblackthorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The squash has a butt. Like, there are two clear cheeks, the little dimple, even some discoloration that looks like bumfluff. </p>
<p>"Nice ass," a voice says and Stiles turns towards the voice. There's a really attractive guy standing there, eyebrows raised and smirk playing over his fuckable red lips. </p>
<p>"Yeah, but the question is, do I want to eat it?"</p>
<p>"Well, guess it depends on how you feel about eating ass."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The squash has a butt.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GotTheSilver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GotTheSilver/gifts).



> Many thanks to Rachel for looking over this even tho it's none of her fandoms! Kara, can't believe this took me over a year!

The squash has a butt. Like, there are two clear cheeks, the little dimple, even some discoloration that looks like bumfluff. This squash has a butt and Stiles can't decide if he wants the ass-squash or something a little less weird for dinner. 

"Nice ass," a voice says and Stiles turns towards the voice. There's a really attractive guy standing there, eyebrows raised and smirk playing over his fuckable red lips. 

"Yeah, but the question is, do I want to eat it?"

Amusement colors the guy's response, laughter barely contained. "Well, guess it depends on how you feel about eating ass."

He looks the guy up and down, he’s hot as fuck, even with the most ridiculous hipster beard… it kinda suits him. Stiles is _all_ over that. "Oh, I _love_ eating ass, it's just a question of if I want it for dinner tonight." 

"Dale," he says, sticking out his hand. 

Stiles nearly drops the squash, reaching over to shake Dale's hand. "Stiles." 

"So, Stiles. What're you doing later?" He loves the way Dale almost drawls his name. 

Stiles looks down at his squash-with-a-butt and then back up at Dale. "I guess it depends," Stiles echoes Dale's earlier come on, "on how you feel about eating ass."

The guy laughs, head thrown back. "Oh, I'm an ass-connoisseur, positively an expert."

He can feel the grin splitting his face. "Yeah?" he asks, a hint of a challenge. "I'm not exactly an ass-eating novice."

Stiles literally can't believe he's having this conversation with this total hot-hipster over vegetables. No wait, he can. 

"Well, better give me your number so we can set something up, see if we can indulge our love of asses a little more, huh?" 

Stiles digs out his phone and a few seconds later he's got Dale's number snugly in his phone, accompanied by a text that says, 'ass lovers unite!'.

He buys the squash. 

*

Before college Stiles had been, like, ninety percent sure he liked guys. No, a better way to put that, Stiles didn't know what the hell he liked, no no, fuck, okay. Stiles knew what he liked when he saw it but he'd be screwed if he could find anything in common between people he found hot. 

He was so caught up trying to figure out what box he fit into until he decided it didn't fucking matter. So what if he watched porn and got drawn in by what the people were doing to each other, how they interacted, way more than what junk they had. Genitials were definitely not the defining factor in what made him want to bone someone. 

College gave him people like him, miles from home, tasting freedom for the first time and ready to _enjoy it_. He might have fucked a few people with no regard for what the fuck they looked like, what they acted like, as long as he could get his dick wet because people actually wanted him. They wanted the weird kid who talked too much, jumping from topic to topic with barely any rhyme or reason; the kid who loved to touch, to drink, to argue, to fuck. 

Stiles normally meets his hookups at clubs he gets into with his fake ID, or frat parties, or, yeah, pretty much places with alcohol. He doesn't usually meet them over a pile of organic squashes. 

Dale's place is nicer than Stiles's but only because Stiles is still living in dorms and it looks like it. Dale's is cool, there's interesting shit on every surface, and it's nice; it's lived in. 

Stiles wanders over to a bookshelf as Dale heads to the kitchen area. 

"Can I get you a drink?" Dale calls, the jingle of an opening fridge. "I've got 7up, orange juice, iced tea." There's a pause. "Are you old enough for beer?" 

"Twenty-one," he lies. "But I'll take the 7up." He doesn't need alcohol to numb himself enough not to come early anymore and he wants to enjoy this guy. Stiles runs a finger over the spines of the books: _Beyond the Closet: The Transformation of Gay and Lesbian Life_ , _Why is Sex Fun?: The Evolution of Human Sexuality_ , _Sexing the Body: Gender Politics and the Construction of Sexuality_. 

Bare feet on wood, Dale walks toward him. When did he take his shoes off? "Thanks." Stiles takes the offered drink. "You have a lot of books." On sex and sexuality and... 

"Yeah, I like reading, I like learning." Dale's close now, close enough that Stiles can see the smattering of chest hair visible over the top of his tank top. 

"Student?" 

"Think I look young enough, huh?" Dale grins, it's teasing and cheeky. Something about this guy makes Stiles relax in a way he doesn't normally during hookups; this is gonna be fun. 

Stiles shrugs. "Might have taken a year out."

"I did go to college, graduated a few years back."

"Yeah? So tell me, where does busting my balls till ass o'clock in the morning and working Denny's get me? What do you do?" It's offhand, not really thinking. 

"Well," Dale pauses, sucks his bottom lip into his mouth. "The degree doesn't exactly pay the rent." 

"No?" Stiles squints at Dale, feels like there's a question waiting to be asked, but he doesn't want to ask it. "Hey, at least you _can_ pay yours, and your place is like, way nicer than mine. And you've got stuff here, I swear half my life is still in California." It's a dead end, he's got better at noticing them, so he switches topics without a pause for breath. "Nice tat." 

Dale smiles again, red lips twisting up into something that seems to genuine it makes Stiles want to eat him up. "Thanks, aren't you going to ask what it means?" 

"Nah." Stiles reaches out a thumb, cold from holding the drink, and traces over the petals peaking out from behind his tank top. "They don't need to have a meaning, right? And even if they do, then maybe it's not something you want to share with a stranger."

Nose scrunching, smile growing bigger, Dale reaches over and lays a hand flat on Stiles's chest. They're totally in each other's space right now. It's why Stiles came here, after all, and it’s so easy to let the hand trail up, cool fingers skimming over Dale's summer-hot skin. 

When Stiles reaches Dale's beard he pets it carefully, the hair thick and bushy under his hand; Dale leans in to the touch. 

"You like beards?" Dale whispers, it's oddly silent in the room, beyond their breathing and the distant sounds of traffic outside. 

Stiles shrugs. "I've never given them much thought before." He grows bolder, letting his fingers part the beard a little, it's not too long, only a couple of centimeters, redder than the rest of Dale's hair. "But this is good, I like it."

"So, you've never fucked a guy with a beard before, huh?" Dale's hands have snuck round to his ass, dragging him closer until there's barely any space between the two of them. 

"Naw, never, they all tend to be old or hipsters." He drapes his arms over Dale's shoulders, bending his elbows so he can card his hand through Dale's hair. It looks so fucking touchable. 

Dale's laugh is even better up close, even if it's more of a chuckle. "You wait til you get rimmed by a guy with a beard, or have it brush up against your dick. It feels _awesome_." 'Awesome' is timed with a hand slipping down the back on his jeans and underwear, warm, rough hands on his ass. 

His breath catches and his dick jerks, he's such a whore for being manhandled; it's one of his favourite things about fucking guys that have got a little muscle. "Yeah?" 

The apartment is warm in the summer heat and between them the air is almost burning. Dale's smart enough to be wearing a tank and some boardshorts but Stiles has a full tee on, because he's an idiot, all right? 

"You look a little hot," Dale whispers onto his lips. 

"Yeah, well, you look a _lot_ hot." Stiles grasps a handful of hair just as lips press against his own. Lips just as fucking soft and warm as Stiles had imagined. 

Neither of them had tilted and so their noses bump, hot breath ghosting over each other. Stiles grasps onto Dale's hair, it's the perfect length for it, as he opens his mouth and traces his tongue along the seam of Dale's lips. 

The beard is weird, not scratchy like stubble, but bushy and soft on his cheeks, softer than he would have expected. When he sucks on Dale's lower lip, he gets a little of the beard in his mouth, and when he pulls back it's a little wet with saliva, darker near his lips where Stiles's mouth had been. 

Stiles leans forward again, brushes his lips over a bearded cheek. "I like it."

Dale snorts. "Yeah? Glad you approve." 

Then Dale fucking goes for it. He pulls Stiles in until they're flush, Stiles's cock pressing against Dale's thigh through too many layers of clothing. Hips are grinding into his and he finds himself wrapping his arms around a nicely muscled back. 

"Can't remember the last time I had sex with someone shorter than me," Dale teases when they part for breath. 

“I’m not that much shorter than you," Stiles says between kisses. Dale's stupid tank top leaves plenty of space for Stiles to get at his chest without them having to break apart to drag it off. 

Stiles pulls it out of the way anyway, just enough that he can get at one nipple. He licks it, looks up to catch Dale's expression, hooded eyes focused on him, watching everything he does. That goes straight to Stiles's dick. He drops down to his knees and Dale's hands card through his hair. 

He waits to get Dale's dick out, he loves this moment, the, ‘how big is it gonna be?’, ‘cut or uncut?’, ‘maybe an interesting curve?’ part. He slips his hands up Dale's top and runs them down his chest, scratching over nipples and watching Dale bite his lip. Yeah, he's going to have to come back to those later. 

Scratching lightly through the trail of hair pointing right at the prize, he drops his hand lower, straight toward Dale's waistband. 

"Can I?" he asks, fingers poised on the top button, ready to pop it open. The boardshorts are doing nothing to hide Dale's erection. 

"You gonna blow me, huh?" Dale scrubs a hand over the back of Stiles' head, leaning back into the touch. 

Stiles raises an eyebrow. "Naw, thought I'd just stare at your cock."

"Smartass," Dale says, fingers positively orgasmic at the base of Stiles's skull. He tilts his head forward for more and Dale doesn't disappoint. 

"You're really fucking good at that." Stiles spreads his knees, trying to give his dick more room; it's futile though and he ends up unzipping his jeans. 

Dale's dick visibly twitches as Stiles palms himself, underwear still on, but fuck that's better. 

"So, gonna let me suck your dick?"

"Lips like yours... it'd be a waste if I didn't."

Stiles grins, a cat that got the canary grin, and starts unbuttoning Dale's shorts. Dale's not crazy big, Stiles knows that already, and as he drags the white briefs out and down, his cock springs free, literally pointing straight at Stiles. 

So he laughs, and thank fuck Dale apparently has a lack of self-esteem issues and can get that the laughing isn't at his cock.

"Dicks make you laugh?" Dale asks, fingers stilled. 

"No! Oh god, I swear I have some game, more game than this just..." Stiles stares at Dale's cock that jumps and oh god, it's like it's trying to say hello. He laughs again. "Your cock... it's saying hello." 

Dale's face breaks out in the biggest fucking grin, laughs a little and grabs the base of his cock. "You're a dork." 

"Pretty much, but don't think I can't see Settlers of Catan over there." Stiles is tracking Dale's cock, waiting to see what he does. 

Pushing his hips forward, Dale brings his cock right up to Stiles's face, and taps it lightly against Stiles's cheek. It's the most polite cock slap he's ever had. 

Stiles raises an eyebrow. 

Dale grins that grin that's part cheeky, and part, fuck, Stiles doesn't know, but it's endearing and fuckable. "My cock wanted to say hello properly."

And that's it, Stiles is fucking gone, he's laughing so hard he's bending over a little, the hot guy from the supermarket is just as much of a fucking dork as he is, oh god. This is the type of deadly fucking person Stiles could be friends with. Dale's still grinning when Stiles catches his eye and fuck, he's gone again, doubling over, wiping tears from his eyes. 

He's literally kneeling on someone's floor with his cock almost out, laughing hysterically. 

"You're a dork!" Stiles says, when he finally, finally catches his breath. 

"Didn't say I wasn't," Dale replies. "C'mon, floors suck for knees, let’s go to the bed."

Dale's bed isn't made, but the covers are worn and soft. It's comfortable in the way his dorm rooms most definitely _aren't_. 

"You good to top?" Dale kicks his shorts and underwear off his ankle, quite apparently no fucks given about being naked in front of a stranger. 

Stiles eyes Dale's cock, it's nice, and he bets the guy knows how to use it. But, he hadn't exactly left his house this morning thinking, 'let’s get fucked in the ass'. 

"Stiles?" Dale prompts. "If it's a problem, I can top, or we don't have to put our cocks anywhere but--" 

"I can be a top." Stiles' hands are resting on the waistband of his skinny jeans. "I mean, I can top, have topped. I just..." He kinda wants that dick now he's seen it. "You've got a really nice cock." 

Dale laughs again, leans forward and presses his palm to Stiles' hard dick. "So do you, and I was looking forward to having it in me. We can flip if you want." He finishes with a dry stroke over Stiles' dick that has his eyes fluttering closed. 

"It's fine."

"You sure that's alright with you?" 

"Yeah, I can get behind that." Stiles grins, waits. 

"Too easy." Dale lets go of Stiles's cock and playfully pushes him back so he bounces on the bed. "And who says you'll be behind me, huh? Just 'cause you're topping doesn't mean you'll be on top." Dale's kinda strong and Stiles's dick really fucking likes that in a guy, apparently. 

Stiles pulls himself up against the headboard, and before he knows it, Dale's crawling over the bed, straddling his thighs. Stiles's jeans and underwear are pulled down so just his dick is out, the bed sheets cool on his bare ass. 

"How are you not sweltering in these?" Dale drags them down a bit, awkward at this angle, fuck, awkward at any angle with these stupid jeans. They just make his ass look really good. 

"They're my favourite jeans." Stiles lifts his hips as Dale struggles to pull them off, they're almost there but his ankle will just not come free. He shakes it and Dale tugs, and snap, it goes, making Dale fall back onto his ass, Stiles's jeans hitting him in the chest. 

"How the hell did you even get into them?" Dale balls them up, chucking them away from the bed. 

Stiles shrugs, he's not going to say the words 'with great difficulty'. It feels so good to have air on his legs, all of the hairs are curled and flattened; he runs a hand through them shuddering at the sensation. Before Stiles can kneel up, Dale's back on him, now when he sits on Stiles's thighs he can enjoy the firm ass against them. Dale's cock bobs as he leans forward, wrapping his arms around Stiles's neck. 

"Hey," Stiles whispers, against Dale's lips. 

"Hey yourself," Dale answers, tightens his arms and brings them flush together. Stiles's dick is hard, and nice and snug between them. They kiss, Dale's beard is still weird against his cheek, but Stiles likes it, the extra sensation brushing against his cheek. 

It's way better than stubble, his skin is too sensitive for that. 

They trade warm, wet breaths for a moment, panting against each other. Dale's a fucking wet dream come true, a dorky wet dream but whatever. Stiles brings his hands up, slips them between them without breaking the kiss and runs blunt nails gently down Dale's chest. Grinning into the kiss at the gasp he gets when he catches a nipple, he runs back over the same path until Dale's grinding against him. 

"You like that, huh?" Stiles does it again, because he can't help himself. 

Dale lets out a breathy moan in response, so Stiles does it one more time before letting his hands wander down and round to Dale's ass. He squeezes, draws Dale close and rubs against him. It takes a second but he gets his knees under him, and in one movement has Dale flat on his back, knees akimbo and Stiles lounging between them. 

Dale's laughter is addictive. The dopey grin on his face is maybe a little lopsided, but whatever, Stiles wants to kiss it, so slinking up Dale's body he does. The evening is hot and Dale's hair is curling, sticking to his forehead with sweat, and Stiles can feel his own doing the same. 

"Your AC sucks balls," Stiles tells him, propping himself on his elbows, framing Dale's face as he leans down to kiss that grin, rubbing his cheek against the beard. 

"Yeah? Well so do I, you’d think we'd get along better, huh?" Dale lifts his hips and thrusts up against Stiles; he gets the idea, pressing their bodies together, already slick with sweat. 

Serious, intense people have their spot in his bed too, but he loves someone who can laugh during sex. They're his kind of people. 

"Bet you love to be pinned down and fucked, huh?" He gets warm lips on his neck for that, and he pushes his arms up, dragsging Dale's hands above his head and pinning them there. "Yeah, yeah you do." 

Dale nips at Stiles's neck, but he can feel the upturned corners of Dale's mouth, smile pressed into his skin. Their cocks are rubbing against each other, and Stiles wants all the things, he wants to blow Dale, he wants to get his fingers in that ass, he wants to kiss him all day, he wants something on his cock, he wants--

Pulling back Stiles takes a deep breath, chest heaving. "Fuck."

"Yeah," Dale agrees, pupils blown. Stiles can guess that his cheeks are blotchy red, his hair a mess.

What does he want to do first? "I want to be inside you."

Dale cocks an eyebrow, but lifts his legs right up, pulls his cheeks apart, exposing himself to Stiles and fuck fuck fuck, how did his day end up like this again? 

"You are fucking unreal," Stiles mutters, moving forward and stroking a finger over Dale's hole. "You already lubed up?"

Dale shrugs as much as he _can_ in this position. "Only a little, don't pout. Even if it looks cute on you."

He doesn't even have to ask for the lube before Dale's directing him to the bedside table, there are condoms there as well, so he grabs one, drops it next to them on the bed. The sound of the cap is loud in the apartment, even over the distant sound of traffic outside. The heat of the day has made the lube so fucking runny and warm on his fingers. 

One finger sinks in easily, Dale's snug and tight around it, but he knows a second will go in without any effort at all. Dale was ready for this. 

"Yeah go on, fucking loved the look of your fingers, almost as much as your cock." Dale's eyes flutter closed and his dick jumps as Stiles strokes firmly up. "Yeah, clever boy." He folds his arms behind his head and lays back. 

There's not much talking, especially not when Stiles reaches up and grabs Dale's leaking cock, wraps it, and pulls it down so he can suck it, fucking his fingers in and out of him. Getting him ready to fuck. Dale's making these little grunty-moans that are going straight to Stiles' dick.

He stares up Dale's heaving chest, watching his chalice tattoo rippling over his ribs as he takes deep breaths. His hands keep reaching down and petting through Stiles's hair, messing it up in the best way. Dale can't stop fucking touching him, which is a-okay with Stiles. Those fingers are ridiculous, he wants them everywhere always. 

Stiles is about at the limit of the amount of latex he can take in his mouth, sometimes he really wants a steady, monogamous boyfriend just so he can get them tested and blow them without one. They're his limits for oral, he'd have to be fucking married to go bareback. 

Dale's cock leaves his mouth with a soft, wet pop and Stiles tries not to pull a face at the _taste_ in his mouth. Fucking latex. 

"C'mere." Dale reaches out, dragging him close, so he can kiss him with red, bitten lips. 

"Dude, trust me you don't want to." Stiles pulls away. "My mouth tastes gross."

Dale rolls his eyes. "I give no shits, c'mere." 

Stiles goes, but breaks away after a minute, insisting on at least rinsing his mouth out.

When he gets back to the bed, Dale's there, reaching back, fingers buried deep in his own ass, a smear of lube on one slightly fuzzy cheek. 

"I got impatient," he says with a grin and a shrug. "So you gonna fuck me?"

"Oh, fuck." Stiles cannot take his eyes away from Dale's fingers disappearing into his hole, it's so fucking hungry for them, for him. Fuck. 

He knee-crawls onto the bed, finds Dale handing him a condom before he even has to ask. 

"Thanks, dude."

Dale lets out a low snort. "You're welcome, _bro._ " 

Stiles slaps his ass, smack nice and loud. 

"You didn't tell me you were a frat boy." Dale pushes back his ass and Stiles lines up his cock. 

"I'm not. But I've fucked enough that I guess they just kinda rubbed off on me." He grins at his own joke and rubs the head of his dick against Dale's hole. The condom tip crinkles as he presses in, just a little, just to test how tight-- fuck, he sinks in, Dale opening up and letting him like a fucking pro. 

Arching his back Dale sighs, content, as Stiles slides straight home. 

"Oh, oh fuck." The whole of Dale's back is spread out in front of him ridiculous tattoos within his reach. There's an ankle just close enough for him to press kisses too, to trace with his tongue. 

Dale reaches back, grabs hold on Stiles' ass and urges him on. "Thought you said you were gonna fuck me?" 

There's a cocked eyebrow and a grin that says he knows exactly what he's doing. "Oh, it's _on_."

Stiles fucks like he's trying to win, leans forward to wrap his hand around Dale's hard cock, doesn't even try to hide his smile at the grunt that earns him. 

Coordination in sex is easy, it's nothing to jerk it and snap his hips at the same time, it's the only thing he ever spent any time practicing when he was in high school.

"Oh, oh fuck," Dale groans, "C'mere." He reaches back and grabs Stiles forward and pulls him into a messy kiss. 

The hot summer breeze just makes their skin slicker as they slide together, it's so easy to fuck on an afternoon like this. Dale's fun, he's playful, when Stiles changes angle, changes speed, Dale pushes and pulls and rises up to meet him. 

"Oh no you don't." Stiles laughs as he playfully pushes Dale's hand away from his cock, replacing it with his own again. Stiles picks up a slower pace, feels the dick in his hand jerk and throb with each thrust. 

"You're such a _brat_ ," Dale draws the last word out, fucking back on Stiles.

Stiles isn't here for slow boning, he's here for a hard, fun, fuck, so he picks up speed, fucking into Dale, feeling Dale meet each thrust. 

Fucking hell this guy knows how to fuck. 

The slap of ass hitting thigh is obscene, Stiles love it, he loves the way it echoes, loud even over the traffic outside. 

"Oh, oh fuck," Dale curses, voice going high and tight, hips thrusting erratically and then there's jizz shooting all over his bed and hell yeah Stiles won. 

He waits til Dale comes down, melts into the bed, face down, ass up, before he starts fucking again, chasing his own orgasm. 

Dale's clenches up, lets Stiles ride his ass until he's stutterfucking, because his _there_ , endorphins are flooding his system, until he's breathless and everything is fucking roses. 

Stiles love orgasms, fucking-A, man. 

He slowly pulls out, once he's caught his breath, and ties off the condom. 

"Oh man, that was _good_." Stiles flops back onto the bed, breath still ragged and far, far too sweaty. 

He rolls his head so he can see Dale, laying next to him, chest still heaving. 

"Did I fuck you into silence, because let me tell you..." 

Dale snorts, and blindly swats a hand out toward Stiles. "You brat, do you never stop talking?" 

"Nope." Stiles pops the 'p'. "Hey, how you feel about pizza? Sex makes me hungry." 

"As long as it's veggie, I'm there." An iPhone lands on his chest with a smack. "Saved under 'Ginos', they'll know my order, add what you want."

Stiles orders, gets himself a Hawaiian, much to Dale's complaints. They sit in comfortable silence, enjoying the slight breeze on their skin as they wait for the food to arrive. 

"You saved me as 'Nice ass?!'" Stiles can't keep the incredulous tone out of his voice. 

A throaty laugh and Dale's grabbing his phone back. "How else was I supposed to remember you?" Dale reaches over and pats his still naked ass. 

The pizza arrives, they bitch at each other's choices, they eat. It's nice, it's the best way to spend the afternoon. Stiles loves this city. 

He wipes the pizza from his mouth with the back of his hand, putting on his most charming smile. "So, you wanna get to know this 'nice ass' again?" 

*

End

**Author's Note:**

> [always on tumblr](http://saspiesas.tumblr.com)


End file.
